


night trouble (tw)

by mistiia



Category: Unus Annus - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Sad with a Happy Ending, Weight Issues, ethan has really disordered eating in this one so trigger warning, friends helping friends :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27148028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistiia/pseuds/mistiia
Summary: All the blood rushes from his head, vision blacking out for a moment and he sways, but it leaves before it has the chance to knock him out. Sometimes Ethan wished it would.The light from down the hallway leaves a shadow of his frame on the walls, smaller than before.-or, ethan loses his appetite.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach & Amy Nelson, Mark Fischbach & Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach/Amy Nelson, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 9
Kudos: 346
Collections: eef whump





	night trouble (tw)

**Author's Note:**

> BIG TRIGGER WARNING  
> if u have an eating disorder don't read this, its a vent fic. and i'm sorry to ethan for using him as the main character in this. 
> 
> as for the triggers,  
> descriptions of weight loss  
> loss of appetite  
> feelings of sickness that come with not eating healthily
> 
> again please dont read this if you have a bad relationship with food.

Ethan stops eating.

-

Ethan listens as the brown pellets ping as they hit the metal of Spencer's bowl, all at once and then a few stragglers drop down after them. He stares for a minute, at the same food he's looked at everyday since Spencer came into his life. They look sad today, dry and a duller brown than they look when there is sun shining through the kitchen windows - Spencer seems as excited as ever so he pays no more thought and carries the bowl over to the matt across the other side of the kitchen.

His dog doesn't even bat an eye before beginning to wolf down the food as he does every morning and evening. And something takes over Ethan so he goes to open the fridge, seeing leftovers from a few days before and various condiments and not much else other than a few slices of deli meat. They’re cold when he reaches for them, Spencer warms them up pretty fast.

Looking into the fridge he feels he’s missing something, but dismisses it and shuts the fridge with a little less energy. 

Ethan grabs his coffee and heads to the living room.

-

Ethan grabs for a slice the pizza layed out pretty in a greasy box on Mark’s living room table. He ordered it sure, but is only just reaching for a piece of it now that it's going cold and all the good slices are gone. It looked so good when he ordered it online, imagining the taste and smell of hot cheese and tomato and a crispy dough base. But for whatever reason, the second the aroma hit his nose when he grabbed it off the delivery girl, his stomach cramped up and suddenly he was doing everything in his power to procrastinate grabbing a slice.

Subconsciously of course, it took the prompting of Amy telling he should eat to remind him that he did in fact order a pizza and hasn't even looked at it in half an hour.

He should probably eat something he knows, the only thing he’d had was coffee, but the small cramps in his stomach made him want to just put it in the fridge and eat it later. Cold pizza is always nice too.

Cold pizza. Not slightly warm and hardened pizza that's been collecting dust, Ethan thinks as the slice passes through his lips. It doesn't taste like much, not like it used to

-

Ethans life devolved in quarantine just a little bit everyday, that little bit of hope that things would go back to normal soon flickered like a dying candle. The scary thought that it will never go back to normal often flashes in his mind.

He used to work out everyday still, his trainer would send him a list of circuits to do at home, and he did them for sure. Soon enough he was receiving the messages on his phone and gave excuses to ‘just do them later’, and eventually his trainer stopped sending him the routines point blank.

It devolved from going out to get his groceries, spending a few hours on facetime with his family and friends, and actually enjoying some alone time to only leaving the house to take Spencer for a short walk, dried up conversations with everyone who only wanted to talk about the same stuff that they’d been talking about for weeks and weeks, and hopping on discord with Mark once a day to record for Unus Annus, using what little motivation he had left.

Ethan stands like a ghost in his kitchen, feeling like everytime he comes to this room his body withers away a little bit more. Sean’s coffee is pretty great he has to admit, it's the sickening taste of the almond milk and creamer that he's getting sick of. 

Spencer nudged at his leg just a little bit to wake him back up, the dog had finished his food and was requesting more it seemed. Ethan kneels down, to give Spencer a little love, but his knees make this unholy cracking sound as he brings his weight down and it makes the dog flinch just the slightest.

“Awh I’m sorry Spence-” Ethan murmurs, reaching behind to scratch the fur behind his ears. Spencer gives in easily, nudging his nose into Ethans face.

  
  


-

Ethan lies in bed, a pit in his stomach, and realises he forgot to eat all day.

-

  
  


Ethan really looks in the mirror for the first time in a while, the only thing he usually did was just check on how fast his hair was growing back, maybe it’s because he's conscious of it now, but it doesn't seem to be growing back as fast as it used to.

Not working out at all in the past few weeks stripped any defined muscle he’d worked so hard for. And if he looked close enough and was honest, the way the beads of fresh shower water ran over his too defined hipbones seemed like a bad dream. Ethan shakes his head and brings up his hand, metal bracelet jangling, resting it on the bones between his eyes. He rests his other hand on his chest and feels down.

There's no padding like a few weeks ago, he can feel the outlines of his ribcage and it freezes him in place. Eyes covered like he doesn't want to look at what's in the mirror. 

“Fuck.” he breathes finally, removing his hand and looking at his reflections eyes dead set. He thought maybe the dark circles came from his new habit of staying up till 2AM a few days a week streaming, and that maybe they were more exposed now since the usual mop of hair providing a shadow over them wasn't as big anymore. But now it comes apparent that these were an unhealthy loss of the fat he’d had on his face sinking away and leaving him looking 18 again.

18 again. Fuck when was the last time he ate?

Eying the scale in the corner of the bathroom, it sends some kind of sick feeling running up his spine so he just leaves. Ignoring everything that just happened. 

-

Ethan lies in bed, running two fingers over the dips in his collarbones. 

It was getting bad, he knew it was. He made a promise to himself it would never end up like this again. Watching how Mark pushed himself every day filled him with a motivation to get healthy, but he always had a strange relationship with food.

Gymnastics gave him means to eat without guilt, as his practice made him skinnier than most with his athletic metabolism. When he stopped showing up as much and eventually stopped going all together a strange thought began running through his teenage mind - ‘if I'm eating the same as when I was active, will I get fat now?’ This wasn't the case of course, he remained pretty skinny but lost his lean muscle. The thought about how much he was eating sat at the back of his mind regardless, rearing it’s head at the strangest of times.

But now, since quarantine began he felt sick all of the time, and with that queasiness came a lack of appetite, and not eating because you feel queasy makes the sickness worse. Coffee shakes were causing anxiety and he had to remind himself to eat so he wouldn't feel sick these days.

But he would be okay right? Instead of ordering his groceries he should go to the shop, get some fresh air. That's the plan for tomorrow, he thinks, denying that it probably won’t happen.

Curious, Ethan sighs as he sits upright, swinging his legs off the side of his bed and letting his bare feet relax on the cold wooden floor. All the blood rushes from his head, the pressure change blacks his vision out, but leaves before it has the chance to knock him out. Sometimes he wished it would.

The light from down the hallway leaves a shadow of his frame on the walls behind him, smaller than before, and he escapes with curiosity to the bathroom, feet patting on the floor.

The scale calls to him, and he so badly doesn't want to do it but there is an itching curiosity. He has to know.

The bones of his feet find the scale before he can think too much about it, and stepping on Ethan feels like it all might just be in his head. The scale will flash back one hundred and forty pounds, all the hard work to gain weight and muscle will still show when he steps on. Maybe he's just paranoid. All this time alone can really do things to someone's head. He thinks. He thinks…?

115lbs.

That's the number that flashes back on the scale. Ethan doesn't move, he doesn't even breathe until the scale’s light turns off and he's left all alone with the fact that he somehow lost twenty five pounds in two months.

That constant feeling of uneasiness rushes to his head like a livewire through an amp, and he can't get the lid of his toilet seat open fast enough.

All that comes up is coffee and the half sandwich he had for lunch.

  
  


-

The home order was lifted three days ago. And after being tested Ethan was feeling nervous. He hadn't seen anyone other than strangers in a few months, and now he's in his car, mask strapped to his face on his way to see Mark and Amy for the first time in a long time.

It goes well, the hoodie he’s swimming in provides a nice comfort to his insecurity, Mark and Amy are ecstatic when he pulls up, refraining from hugs and touches just in case. Ethan washes his hands, they catch up with nothing much to say other than how strange the last few months where.

It feels a little false to Ethan, living and doing quarantine alone proved difficult. He fell back into bad eating habits and getting lost somewhere his mind hasn't been in a long time, he doesn't mention any of this, rather talking about Spencer a little bit too much. He’s glad Mark and Amy had each other. 

Somewhere halfway between recording Ethan had lifted the hoodie from his body, feeling uncomfortable in the heat seeping into the house from outside. But Ethan misses the look that Amy had given him from behind the camera. He missed the way Mark’s eyebrows creased when Ethan had leaned over the table and reached out to grab one of the props. Remaining oblivious in the excitement of recording a video in person, he completely misses the energy shift in the room.

Ethan never saw the way Amy’s eyes kept flitting back to the boy’s arms like she was trying to figure out where they had gone, because surely the muscle Ethan had worked so hard for couldn't just disappear that quickly?

Mark could not stare too long as to not act strange on camera, but when he had the excuse to look at Ethan’s face it pained to see how his friends jawline was unhealthily sharp, and his eyes sunk in like wilted flowers.

“Where gonna order some food okay?” Amy had said just as they finished recording sharing a conversation with Mark in pointed eye contact.

Ethan glanced up to look at her, suddenly all too aware of how it sounded like she was asking him for permission, like she was gauging his reaction. 

“Cool I need to eat anyway, do you wanna go halves?” he replies easily, Mark shifts in his seat.

That cancer paranoia seeps slowly into his veins again and he reaches for his hoodie, sliding into it and feeling just a little better. 

“We’ve got it.” Mark says, curt.

Ethan nods, feeling a little awkward and makes a move for the downstairs bathroom.

It's bad. He knows it's bad, and when he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror he wonders if this is what Mark and Amy saw. It's embarrassing, so embarrassing, maybe he can hide in this bathroom forever and the feeling will go away.

Did Mark and Amy notice? Ethan feels sick. Not realising his appetite was gone until it was too late, he didn't even realise he looked like this until now, sure his hair is back partially, it shadows his eyes slightly, but the short sides expose the thin lines of his cheekbones and ghastly jaw. 

The video they just made shows him at all angles, Ethan realises that millions of people are going to see him without a hoodie on, how skinny his arms had gotten - and a lump forms in the back of his throat.

“Fuck.” he hisses, hitting himself in the forehead with a closed fist.

With a crushing feeling of wanting to go home and hide, Ethan flushes the toilet though it was never used and turns the tap on, washing his hands anyway.

“You're gonna be okay.” he tells the person in the mirror weakly.

-

“Ethan are you doing okay?” Mark says suddenly, cutting through the soft music coming from the speaker.

Ethan stalls, a spoon of curry lifted halfway to his face. He swallows air instead.

Amy looks like she wants to hit Mark, but those deep eyes gase on, curious and caring. Ethan doesn't know how to reply, and he's so embarrassed, ashamed of himself, the crushing feeling returns so hot and intense he fumbles over his words.

“I uh” Mark and Amy remain silent, like they're trying to make him babble, but their ever comforting and homely energy fills the room with tones of truth and caring. 

“I’m good,” he smiles a little too tightly, “It's just weird seeing people like this after being at home for s-so long.” The lie comes off his tongue bitter and cold, and fills him with distaste.

Suddenly the bowl of food looks as unappetizing as ever, and his stomach cramps up again with some sick feeling of not being good enough for the food Mark and Amy bought for him.

  
  


-

  
  


_ dude i’m worried about you. _

The phone glares back at Ethan, one new message from  _ annus to my unus. _

Before he can even think of what to reply another message comes in.

_ i don’t know what’s going on but you looked ill today, i’m always here for you. _

Ethan swallows, Mark did notice.

_ i’m srry for worrying u i’m okay i promise :) _

Ethan clenches his jaw as tears he didn't know were forming roll over his eyes and down his face, dampening his cheeks. He wants to eat so badly, nothing tastes good anymore.

_ i know you’re not okay dude, you look like a ghost what's going on? _

Ethan huffs out, overwhelmed and restless - it's too much, way too much for his brain to even begin to process. He knows Mark is always there for him, but when it comes to his body it was an embarrassing battle he always wanted to face alone.

“Fuck this.” he huffs again, he’s not dealing with this alone again tonight, sick of lying in bed tracing his bones and beating himself up in his own mind over and over. 

_ can i come over ? _

It's 10PM, but the solidarity and determination Mark always possesses reminds him that he's never alone anymore. Ethan feels embarrassed again, but he needs his friend more than he needs his pride.

_ of course, bring spencer. _

  
  


_ - _

Spencer runs into the house before Ethan has even finished getting out of his car, clad in another hoodie and the only pair of sweats that don't look too ridiculously big on him.

Mark doesn't wait for him by the door, instead he walks down the driveway, meeting Ethan halfway and pulls him into a hug.

Ethan knows what it's like to hug Mark, he’s done it time and time again, but this time there is way too much empty space, to many gaps between their limbs and abdomens. Mark seems to realise this too and pulls Ethan even closer. Another pair of arms snake around the pair of them, Amy joins in, filling in all the empty spaces Ethan leaves free and he feels like he's at home.

“God. You’re skin and bones Eth.” Amy says before she can catch herself.

All Ethan can seem to reply with is “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll help you get it all back Ethan, we’re here for you.” Mark says, gruff and pained.

They stand for a while, taking in each other's presence. It feels real this time, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off Ethan’s shoulders. The weight was crushing his skin into his bones and his bones into the floor. He knows his friends will help him carry it until it goes away.

“I lost 25 poun-” He can't even finish his confession, choking and sinking his face into Mark’s shoulder.

Mark stops breathing for just a second.

“I feel so sick all the time, and I can’t eat because I feel sick, and then I feel so much more sick.” He’s waffling he knows, “I didn't mean to- I didn't want to, I was so- so proud of how much I gained and then, quarantine-” Ethan also knows that Mark and Amy don't mind.

“Hey- hey it’s gonna be okay, I promise.”


End file.
